


Piano

by LeonaDracontis



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeonaDracontis/pseuds/LeonaDracontis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao watches his piano teacher playing a classical piece. Set in AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano

“Play your favorite score for me, please?”

It was just one question. It couldn’t even be considered as a question per se, but merely a wish.

Then, long and slender fingers started to touch the ivory keys with delicacy before pressing harder. The melody started to fill the room, reaching softly to the ears of the smaller man. It sounded so pure and intimate, like coming directly from the larger man’s secretive heart.

Takao closed his eyes, absorbing the melody, trying to live it, breathe it to his core until he could not feel anything but music. The melody started to escalate, he could feel Beethoven’s enthusiasm under the fingers of his teacher, interpreting the music genius’ masterpiece with perfection. Hell, he himself was far from being an expert in playing piano even though he was taking these lessons for the last few months, but even _he_ could feel in his bones when someone could play a classical piece as beautiful and dramatic as this.

He tried to focus more on the melody and less on the man playing it, but it was getting harder by the second. It was so hard not to imagine those fingers, those hands, those eyes while trying to concentrate on music filling all five of his senses. For him, they equaled the same thing.

He opened his eyes slowly, trying to absorb as much as he could. Or else, he was afraid this could be a dream, or maybe nightmare, because not being able to see that man in front him right now for the rest of his life could be nothing but a nightmare, or a badly composed piece, as Midorima, his teacher, would say.

As he was deep into thought about this beautiful man - _this_ man he was falling for deeply day by day-, he caught something with his talented and sharp sight. It was so small, so tiny, and yet so beautiful that he thought for a second that he imagined the whole thing. But no, it was there. Those beautiful lips were slightly curved into a smile, a smile so sincere and warm that Takao felt the salty droplets attacking the corner of his eyes. There he was, one of the most stoic and coldest men you could ever meet, smiling with an expression so pure and so childish, like he was not the same man he was when he came at Takao’s house, but a mere child who happened to discover his favorite thing in the whole world.    

Takao was sure he did not witness anything more beautiful and genuine than that as a tiny drop of tear fell from the corner of his right eye slowly and involuntarily. He did not even try to make a move to wipe it as he was too absorbed into the scene in front of him. He was afraid to his bones that if he would even dare to move a muscle, the whole magic of the moment would be corrupted to pieces. So he just watched and watched, trying to memorize every movement and every note, but especially every part of that plump and delicious looking lips which presented the most breath taking smile in the world to him.

He thought that this must have been what it feels like to feel something you love to your bones, himself loving his teacher in his heart, and right now his teacher loving the melody and music he was apart from for so long. Takao knew, he knew that Midorima did not play Beethoven’s this symphony ever since he retired because of a certain incident, until this exact moment.

Another traitorous tear had escaped as he realized how privileged he was to witness such a moment. For a man who refused to play anything unless he was to teach Takao, a man who did not speak about music as something he loves, but something he does; seeing him like this, pressing the keys like he was making love to them and smiling like he knows how to please the melody with his movements..

He watched and watched, until his soul and his body were filled with the melody and this man, until all his thoughts were about Midorima and his talented fingers. He wondered if he was _this_ into the classical music before meeting Midorima, but the answer was already there in his mind, whispering him with a keen ‘of course not’. Never in his whole 24 years of life, he would have thought he would be in love with the genre as much as he would be in love with the most serious and uptight person in the world.

As the melody approached its climax, his heartbeats started to increase to match the movements of Midorima, fast and hard, like he was witnessing Beethoven himself playing in front of him. But he was sure it would have been a less exciting and staggering experience for him, because the mere sight of this tall, muscular green-haired beast was more than enough to make him shiver from head to toe.

He continued to wander his gaze around all of Midorima’s body, finally stopping on his lips, which were still curved into a smile, probably involuntarily; and fixed his gaze as he was too afraid not to remember it later when this was all over and when Midorima would probably return to his normal stoic-self without showing any emotions.

The melody came to an end with a couple of final soft touches on the ivory keys that could easily be considered as caresses of a gentle lover. Midorima opened his eyes softly as he retrieved his fingers back slowly. He turned around to face his student and was dumbstruck by the sight in front of him. There he was, that annoying and loud man -with a teasing smirk plastered on his face for most of the time-, stood motionless, his gaze fixed on his own while his face showed an expression which Midorima had not seen until this moment. He was not sure what it was, or how to describe it, but the sight was so clear. His student was crying. Not in a weeping kind of way, but more like sitting quietly with tears pouring down from your eyes kind of way.

“Takao..why are you..”

His sentence was cut with a hoarse whisper.

“You smiled.”

“What?”

“You smiled..For the first time..ever since you became my teacher, Shin-chan.”

“I told you not to call me that. I am your teacher, Takao.”

The warning went unnoticed as Takao chuckled. He did not care about anything, neither Midorima being angry at him, nor his annoyed expression directed to his way. He was still playing the melody of that smile he had witnessed only seconds ago, and he did not intend to let anything ruin the reality and sincerity of that one small action which made him the happiest man on earth at this exact moment.

“Yes I know, _sensei._ But you’ll always be Shin-chan to me, no matter what you do or say. And I’m not intimated by you, not at all. On the contrary, I find you very.. _intriguing_. Now, can you play one more time, please? Just once again, I want to feel the melody once again. It feels like I can see the real _you_. It feels like it’s not a person who _has to_ play anymore, it becomes more like a person who _wants to_ play. And I can see how much you enjoy it on your face. Do you know you smiled so sincerely while you played? I want to see that once again..just one more time. That smile”.

A soft sigh escaped the bigger man’s lips. This was a lost battle on his part. The words of the always teasing-man would have been carved into his brain for the rest of his life as he turned around and pressed the tip of his fingers onto the surface of the ivory keys he had yearned for so long.

“Fine. Just focus, you will try to play this after me.”

“I’m not doing anything but focus, Shin-chan.”

And with that, the room was once again filled with the melody of Beethoven while Takao prayed to Gods that he was blessed to witness the whole thing once again. This time, he did not close his eyes to strengthen his hearing -not once-, as he tried to focus more on the man than the music, at the cost of getting scolded later. But it was worth it, oh it was worth it so much to see that magnificent smile one more time. He smiled to himself as Midorima started to get lost into the pile of notes and melodies as the corner of his lips curved into a smile once again, which shook Takao to the core of his soul. Once again, he was glad to the person who had invented the piano. And Beethoven as well. God bless his soul for creating a piece that could fill this beautiful man’s heart with happiness and joy. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt like writing this one-shot, which was originally part of a plot of a much longer MidoTaka fanfiction in my head. I don’t know, I felt like writing this part for some reason. It’s quite different from what I wrote before, so I hope it turned out okay in the end.


End file.
